


Though the night was made for loving

by ohfreckle



Category: Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Feminization, Lingerie, Lipstick & Lip Gloss, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-27
Updated: 2013-10-27
Packaged: 2017-12-30 15:33:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1020366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohfreckle/pseuds/ohfreckle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki loves to see Thor in lingerie.</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Lust coils tight in Loki's belly, sharp and raw, an almost overwhelming need to fuck, to bury himself so deep inside his brother's body that no one will be able to carve him out again.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Though the night was made for loving

**Author's Note:**

> The short summary for this: Sometimes Loki wants to see Thor in lingerie and Thor just wants to get thoroughly fucked.
> 
> This is all Schaudwen's fault and I regret nothing. Or more precisely, she wanted the lingerie and lipstick and then my thing for feminization got the best of me.  
> She also provided this lovely visual of [bearded men wearing lipstick](http://jannikeviveka.wordpress.com/2011/09/19/armin-morbach-lip-service/) and you should all thank her for it.

The silk is cool against Loki’s fingertips, but it heats up quickly where he smoothes it over narrow hips, his fingers dipping under the elastic waistband to settle it _just right_ over soft skin and hard planes of muscle. 

The color of fine wine, heady and intoxicating. Of blood, life and death. Of passion. 

Befitting a king. 

Red has always been Thor’s color. 

“You are truly beautiful,” Loki sighs, content, the words barely a whisper against Thor’s neck. 

Loki settles himself more firmly against the broad expanse of Thor’s back, pressing closer to soak up the heat of him and share the fluttering beat of his heart. 

“You are spinning lies, brother, as always,” Thor says, but it bears no heat, the slight hitch in his voice revealing just how pleased he is at Loki’s rare praise. 

Loki breathes a laugh and presses a soft kiss to Thor’s shoulder, not once taking his eyes from the reflection of their naked bodies in the mirror. 

The paleness of his own fingers and the black of his nails paint a vivid contrast against the small patch of bright red silk that is barely enough to cover Thor’s straining cock. They are beautiful together, decadent and obscene, like their love that goes so far beyond brotherly affection. 

“No, not this time, brother, as you should well be able to tell. Do you not bring these gifts from your precious Midgard because my cock swathed in silk excites you? Do you not think about sucking my tits through a layer of lace when you choose them?” 

“You know that I do,” Thor growls before his breath leaves him in a hot rush of air at Loki’s touch, just as Loki intends to. Loki wants– no, he _needs_ Thor breathless with want, beyond speech and reason, needs him as desperate and _wanting_ as Loki feels every time Thor looks at him with naked hunger in his eyes. 

Loki scratches through the golden curls that are peeking teasingly over the tightly stretched waistband. He keeps his touch light, playful, only pressing his fingers deeper into Thor’s flesh when Thor growls at him and bucks his hips. 

“Then why do you find it so hard to believe that I enjoy seeing you like this?” 

Oh, and just how Loki enjoys the sight of Thor. Wide shoulders and strong thighs, a single scrap of silk adorned with lace nestling against the sharp cut of his hips like a shocking drop of red against sun-kissed skin. 

Loki slips his hand deeper, breath hitching at the twin sensation of coarse hair tickling against his palm and slippery silk against the back of his hand. Thor is hot under his teasing fingers, the lightly furred skin of his balls slick with sweat and his cock curving hard against the side of Loki’s wrist, twitching when Loki curls his fingers around his heavy sac and _squeezes_. 

Loki’s own balls ache in sympathy at the low groan that rumbles from somewhere deep in Thor’s chest. 

“You think me as fair as a maiden?” Thor laughs breathlessly. To all the world he may sound like he is jesting, but Loki knows better, does not miss the flash of hunger in his brother’s eyes. 

“No maiden could be as fair as you,” Loki murmurs, licking the delicate patch of skin right under Thor’s jaw that always has him draw a shuddering breath. He strokes his hand even lower, over the smooth patch of skin behind Thor’s balls and into the crease of his arse, pressing lightly against the tight furl of Thor’s entrance. 

“No maiden’s cunt could be as tight as yours.” 

It is but a whisper, and yet it has Thor’s whole body shuddering with wicked delight, his cock smearing wet lines of pre-spend against the skin of Loki’s arm. He looks beautiful debauched like this, the fat head of his cock peeking over the edge of the tiny garment that cannot hold the girth of both of them, already slick and shining. 

Lust coils tight in Loki’s belly, sharp and raw, an almost overwhelming need to fuck, to bury himself so deep inside his brother’s body that no one will be able to carve him out again. 

Thor seems to sense his need and presses back against Loki with a harsh growl. He fits himself into the mold of Loki’s hips and presses wet kisses into the side of Loki’s neck with his eyes closed, golden lashes fanning against cheeks stained red with excitement. 

Loki hisses at the press of Thor’s backside against his hard cock and rolls his hips against firm flesh, his cockhead sliding into the dip just above Thor’s arse. He gasps at the scrape of lace against his sensitive skin and does it again, teasing them both with what they cannot have. 

Loki _wants_ , feels it like a living thing curling inside of him, coiling tighter and tighter until he’s breathless with it, but now is not the time, not yet, not with Thor watching him from half-lidded eyes in the mirror, a thin sliver of electric blue taunting him in an unspoken challenge. 

_Have me. Take me._

Loki will. He _will_ have him, on his knees, begging for Loki’s cock. 

He lets go of Thor’s hip and reluctantly withdraws his hand from the sweaty crease between Thor’s cheeks to tease a trail of touches light as feathers over Thor’s stomach and chest before he curves his fingers over the swell of his brother’s chest. 

So different from a woman’s softness, thick and hard, fitting perfectly into Loki’s palm. A smattering of finger-shaped bruises is hidden by his hands but Loki sees them clearly, images from the night before flashing through his mind, of his thighs spread wide over Thor’s hips, his fingers digging deep into the meat of Thor’s chest while he rode them both to sweaty completion. 

“Loki, I beg you, do not tease,” Thor groans. He is restless, impatient, his body straining against Loki’s greedily. 

“Ah, but I am not teasing, brother, merely enjoying myself, because no maiden’s tits could be as magnificent as yours,” Loki murmurs. 

He steps back with a parting caress, his thumbs pressing down hard on the stiff nubs of Thor’s nipples. A cool gust of air whispers over his skin, carrying the taste of ozone like the harbinger of a thunderstorm. 

“Always so impatient,” Loki says, reaching out to trail a finger down the line of Thor’s spine. He breathes a laugh at the shiver that follows his touch, a small, private sound that holds no mirth but is full of wonder. 

“Soon, brother,” he soothes, “but something is still missing.” 

Loki wanders over to the chest of drawers that holds the wealth of gifts Thor brings to him from his journeys. Some are precious and beautiful, knives, jewelry and lavish garments ( _they remind me of you_ , Thor will whisper against his skin upon his return), while some are mere trinkets, wicked little things that Thor chooses solely for his own carnal delight. 

He rifles through the silver box that holds his make-up, and now it is him who makes an impatient sound. He needs to do this right, and he chooses carefully until he finally settles on a silver tube of lipstick. 

Thor is facing him when he turns, and Loki can’t hold back a moan at the sight that greets him. Thor regards him quietly with his arms at his sides, a dark spot staining the front of his panties. It is growing larger as Loki watches, fed by the pre-spend that is spilling copiously from Thor’s cock, wetting his cockhead where it has escaped the confines of the small garment before it slowly seeps into the bright red fabric. 

“Open your mouth for me,” Loki orders to distract himself. He lifts Thor’s face gently, tilting his face up and rubbing his thumb softly over Thor’s bottom lip. His breath hitches when Thor’s tongue darts out to swipe wetly against the pad of his thumb, but his hand does not shake when he rests the lipstick against Thor’s upper lip. 

Loki traces the lipstick from the middle of the bow of Thor’s lip down to the tapering edge of his mouth. He takes his time, gauging his work with a critical eye before he repeats it on the other side and finally Thor’s lower lip. He works slowly and precisely, ghost fingers of heat tracing up his spine and curling around his neck at the picture of decadence he paints. 

Thor’s lips are a deep red against the gold of his beard, an obscene shock of color that turns slick and shining when Thor experimentally smacks his lips. Heat slams into Loki’s belly, so sudden and violent it takes his breath away. 

“Suck me,” Loki grits out and pushes hard at Thor’s shoulder. 

Loki has no hope of ever besting Thor’s physical strength, and yet Thor sinks willingly to his knees, impossibly graceful for a man his size. He looks up at Loki, his eyes almost black with only a thin ring of bright blue remaining. Thor holds Loki’s gaze for the briefest of moments, clearly intending to tease, but his eyes slide shut the moment Loki taps his cock against his bottom lip. 

Once is enough. Thor slides his lips over the crown, suckling lightly, just once before he pulls back again. He circles the shaft with his fingers and strokes slowly, stripping the foreskin back to flick his tongue over Loki’s slit, tasting him. 

It is sweet and cruel and not enough. _Never enough_ , never enough of Thor’s touch, Thor’s eyes on Loki, never enough of _Thor_. Loki’s thighs tremble at the sensation, the tight push and pull almost enough to make him spill. 

“Your mouth, I want your mouth,” he rasps, sliding a hand into Thor’s hair to guide him. Thor follows willingly, beautiful and obedient, his lips stretching over Loki’s girth in a perfect red circle. Loki’s whole being shudders, his skin suddenly too small for the need that is clawing at him, to have and possess– _mine mine mine_. 

Thor takes him deep, his throat fluttering against the head of Loki’s cock, straining to take him even deeper until it is too much and he has to pull back. He curls his tongue around the head while he catches his breath, teasing Loki with soft little licks before he slides down the shaft again, hot, wet heat–

Loki moans, teetering on the edge of climax before he makes himself pull back, heart thudding at Thor’s impatient whine of loss. He tries to calm himself with deep breaths, but it takes only one look at Thor and Loki’s body tightens again with want. 

Thor is filthy, his lips and beard slick with saliva and Loki’s pre-spend. He is completely still except for the hand that is working between his legs. Loki burns at seeing his brother so desperate for him, on his knees, begging with his whole body to be taken by Loki who is the only one to ever see him like this. 

Loki strokes trembling fingers over Thor’s mouth, gathering the last traces of red until only a faint tinge of pink remains. 

“Brother, please,” Thor says, watching Loki intently, his breath hot against the tips of Loki’s fingers. _“Fuck me.”_

The coil of need in Loki’s belly instantly unravels, flaring bright and hot. He trembles with it, lets it consume him until all that is left is a red haze of need. 

“You want my cock in that tight cunt of yours?” Loki asks, bending down so he can breathe the question against Thor’s temple like the secret that it is. Thor’s answer is a quick brush of his lips against Loki’s, and Loki rather feels than hears the low plea of _please, inside_ in the breath they share. 

A soft touch from Loki to Thor’s hip is all that is needed and Thor turns, arranging himself with his chest to the floor and his knees spread wide. 

As always Loki’s breath catches at the sight of Thor’s strong thighs and wide shoulders, his thickly muscled back. The powerful body of a warrior rippling with strength and need, turned into a shivering figure of wantonness by a single garment. 

“Loki, I swear–” Thor growls, but his words melt into a low, harsh moan of anticipation as soon as Loki kneels between his legs. He pushes back into Loki’s touch, fitting the globes of his arse into the cups of Loki’s hands. 

The silk is hot now against Loki’s palms, damp with his own pre-spend from earlier and Thor’s sweat. Loki slides the silk down over the swell of Thor’s arse reverently, his eyes fixed to where he is slowly revealing Thor’s entrance. There he stops, lets the elastic waistband rest against the underside of Thor’s buttocks and just looks. 

Loki wants to taste, wants Thor on his tongue, smooth silk and hot skin, wants the soft golden hair that leads from Thor’s balls to his pink hole tickling against his tongue. 

Later. There will be time for teasing later and Loki involuntarily clenches his own buttocks, shivering with the knowledge that Thor will repay double anything that Loki will do to him. 

For now Loki watches Thor shiver as the chill of Loki’s magic washes over him to prepare him for Loki’s cock. Wetness glistens between the cheeks of Thor’s arse, and he gasps and rolls his hips into the cold touch of magic that prepares him more quickly than even Loki’s clever fingers ever could. 

“In me, I beg you, brother.” There is a desperate hitch to Thor’s voice that makes Loki’s balls ache with anticipation. 

Loki steadies himself with a hand on Thor’s hip and grips his cock at the base. He feeds Thor his cock slowly, teases him open with just the head, keeping him stretched around the wide flare of it until he feels the tight clench of Thor’s hole turn into something softer, something more bearable that will not make Loki spill before he is even fully seated. 

Thor is lost in pleasure, his eyes closed and his cheeks flushed crimson. It is like he draws Loki deeper with small circles of his hips, asking for _more_ , demanding for _deeper, ah, deeper_ until Loki’s restraint snaps and he gives it to him. He sinks into Thor with a hard snap of his hips, hard enough to rock Thor on his knees. 

“Is this cunt tight enough for you,” Thor gasps around a breathless laugh. Every retort Loki might have come up with is lost in the shout he gives at the feeling of Thor clenching around him, all those muscles finally put to better use than just fighting. And yet, their fucking is much like their fighting, the both of them moving as one and anticipating their every move. 

Loki fucks Thor hard and fast. He pulls out of him against the maddening friction of Thor clenching his arse and sinks back into his tight heat in a single stroke with no resistance at all. Only a few blissful strokes into him and Loki already feels release clawing up his spine, making his hips stutter. Thor hisses an impatient noise every time Loki slips and bumps his sac instead of breaching him. 

“Don’t tease, brother,” Thor gasps. He reaches back and pulls Loki close with a hand on his thigh. Even with his mind occupied by their fucking Thor’s brutish strength is enough to keep Loki in place. 

Loki can do little but succumb to it and stretches along Thor’s back, mouthing at his shoulder. With Thor keeping him close Loki can barely move his hips, so he takes him slow and deep, with his hands tight on Thor’s hips and grinding into him until he cannot go any deeper. He sucks large bruises into Thor’s skin that everyone will see and wonder about tomorrow in the training ground’s baths. But Thor does not stop him, instead he leans into him and turns his head. They meet in a harsh kiss that tastes like sweat and salt and all the things they rarely say. 

Thor shudders and gasps into the kiss every time Loki strokes over his prostate, a high and whining sound that Loki wants to lock away and remember, so he does it again and again, mind awhirl with the knowledge that he is the only one who can do this to his brother, that Thor spreads his legs and moans for no one else like he does for Loki. 

Thor comes with a hoarse shout at the first touch to his cock, slicking Loki’s fingers with thick strings of his seed. He shudders through his release for long moments, his arse clenching around Loki with every fresh dribble of come that Loki coaxes from his cock. 

He _milks_ Loki’s orgasm from him and Loki comes with no warning, a wave of heat blazing through him and his whole body locking with the wave of pleasure that washes over him. He cries out while he holds himself deep inside of Thor and spills, pushing his seed deeper with small circles of his hips until he is completely spent. 

Loki collapses onto Thor’s back without remorse. Too often does he bear the weight of the great oaf after their couplings, struggling for breath while Thor lavishes him with his affections. 

It will not be for long. Loki may not share Thor’s stamina, but Thor is still hard in his hand and the fluttering of his hole around Loki’s softening cock is enough to send a new spark of want up Loki’s spine. 

In the mirror he can see the lipstick-red fingerprints he has pressed into Thor’s hip, another mark of ownership. They will keep Loki entertained for the time his body needs to recover. 

**Author's Note:**

> Any and all feedback is much appreciated! For updates, snippets and whinings on my fics, feel free to add me on [tumblr](http://ohfreckle.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](http://twitter.com/ohfreckle)


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